


A Happy New Year

by Kotik



Series: Adult Season Three [3]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 01:29:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3672435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kotik/pseuds/Kotik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A steamy interlude as Enterprise is on the way home</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Happy New Year

**Author's Note:**

> The "Blindfolded Blowjob Bingo" is inspired by Nick Scipio's "Summer Camp" Book 2

Her hand rested in the crook of his elbow as Trip and T’Pol entered the Mess Hall for the New Year’s Eve party and all eyes were on them. Not so much because the chief engineer was wearing a tuxedo, it was T’Pol who got all the stunned looks. She was wearing a long ruby evening dress with a very low-cut neck-line to say the least.

Trip stifled a chuckle seeing that even Jon was about to dribble when he saw the the ridiculous amount of cleavage on display.

“Why thank you, T’Pol,” Anna said with a bright smile, passing by arm in arm with Rostov. “The rest of us are going to be invisible for the evening.”

Trip was about to think of a witty reply, after all Anna was the only one equipped with enough mammary tissue to challenge the Vulcan, but his XO had already sauntered off.

“I fail to understand the fascination with this attire,” T’Pol noted. “As our celebratory group meeting starts in three hours, Lieutenant Reed and the other members of the group will see me unclothed. It is illogical to react that strongly to me actually wearing clothing.”

Trip threw his head back and laughed softly. “That’s illogical humans for ya, darlin’. The saying ‘less is sometimes more’ exists for a reason.

=/\=

“This is unacceptable,” the Vulcan Ambassador said. No, he ranted, Maxwell thought to himself.

“Sit down, Soval,” he said calmly, deliberately using the Vulcan’s first name to signal that this was no official talk. “How about telling me first what you find so unacceptable?”

“The behavior of T’Pol and Commander Tucker is an outrage!”

Maxwell’s eyes went wide. Where did this come from? If anything the outspoken chief engineer of Enterprise had been unusually well behaved, considering he hadn’t had a go at the Vulcan for trying to scupper their mission.

“I’m afraid you lost me Soval.”

“Their interaction is overly familiar,” the Vulcan insisted. “They seemed to communicate by just exchanging looks.”

So this was what got the Vulcan’s knickers in a twist. Anger boiled up in him as he wasn’t taking any interference with the private lives of his people. He had enough of that shit every day listening to Admiral Black. Maxwell stood up from his chair and towered over the sitting Vulcan.

“Listen, Soval. I _want_ my people to be familiar. You’ve been a good friend for many years, but I’m not taking any attempts of imposing your values on _my_ people and T’Pol is one of them. It took my wife and me twenty-four years to understand each other just by exchanging looks. If those two managed that within two years, they have my support. Did I make myself clear?”

A deep sigh sounded from the Vulcan’s mouth, which was an unusually emotional reaction of the otherwise rigorously controlled Ambassador.

“I needed to make sure that you are ‘on the same page’, as you would say, Maxwell. If the High Command learns of their obvious attraction to each other, the children may be in grave danger.”

“Wait a minute, Soval, you are NOT against them?” Maxwell asked, stunned about Soval’s statement.

“Officially I am forced to oppose their union, unless you wish to work with someone else in the future. Privately I can admit that from what I saw, T’Pol has chosen well.”

Soval really never ceased to amaze, Maxwell thought. What had started as a rant – very un-Vulcan – had ended as a blessing for whatever was up between Tucker and _Enterprise’s_ science officer.

“You said something about grave danger?” the Admiral asked with a worried look.

“The High Command has a history of reacting violently to unions between Vulcans and off-worlders,” the Ambassador replied and for the first time in years Maxwell could see a genuine emotion on the Vulcan’s face – worry.

“Let them try Soval and they’ll learn how humanity reacts to that,” Forest said with a serious face expression.

=/\=

He crashed against the wardrobe as they tumbled into T’Pol’s quarters. With a swift movement he shoved the hems of her evening dress aside and the firm breasts of the Vulcan were free for access. Normally she wouldn’t be so expressive if it wasn’t for the fact that she was slightly tipsy from many glasses of Champaign. She wasn’t drunk, but just about loosened up enough to overcome some of her stronger inhibitions.

While his hands still massaged her naked breasts, T’Pol was eagerly pushing her tongue into his throat. A good five minutes went by until they had sated all the pent-up desire.

He pulled down the zip on the back of her dress and when it fell off her shoulders he noticed with a gasp that she had not even worn panties underneath. Granted, with the dress reaching down to her ankles there was little danger of anyone noticing, but the sheer naughtiness left him speechless. With a last lustful look back at him the naked Vulcan disappeared into her bathroom to prepare for the upcoming celebration in C47.

They had never said it out loud, but since they had spent the first night together five days ago, they were living in a relationship. They had alternated between his and her quarters for the nights, which was why both of them had half their belongings in the other’s quarters. As a result he found his normal casual attire in her wardrobe.

Not that the clothes would stay on once they arrived at C47, so there was no point in selecting festive attire. Normally everyone just showed up in casual clothes. Having prepared himself, he opened T’Pol’s side of the wardrobe and he selected her ruby catsuit and a pair of panties. That would be all she needed.

T’Pol came out of the bathroom and stored the toiletries in her chest of drawers before walking up to him to claim another kiss. He took her hand and made her sit down on the edge of the bunk. She looked expectantly at him.

“Darlin’ we haven’t said as much out loud, but I tend to think we’re living in a steady relationship. Am I wrong in that?”

Up went the eyebrow as she looked at him somewhat bemused.

“Of course Trip; we have been spending each night with each other. I though this much was obvious. Do you need a verbal confirmation?”

“Not really,” he said with a smile. “But we’re preparing to go and have sex with other people. Just need to know where that fits in.”

He could hear her take a deep breath. That would mean a longer explanation then.

“I explained to you that biological implications cause a heightened urge to mate.”

He nodded his understanding.

“I understand perfectly that you would be willing to sate my desires, but this would be required in such frequency, it would make our sexual relations meaningless. I do not wish them to be meaningless.”

He smiled. Leave it to T’Pol to declare her love while talking about casual sex.

“So how do you deal with it on Vulcan? I’d guess the concept of swinging is not really known there.”

“Of course not,” she replied, stealing another kiss. “On Vulcan mating is a mere mechanical act. I doubt that any female has ever experienced the pleasure that I am privileged to experience. Normally the female’s sexual drive is not triggered by a virus, but by the first mating after the wedding ceremony. The mates then live in seclusion for one year during which the male is required to quench his mate’s desire for intimacy… frequently.”

“I can see where this gets a bit boring,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But the group only meets once a week.”

He could see her fidget slightly.

“I regularly visit Ensign Sato and Lieutenant Hess. Occasionally I also engage in sexual relations with Ensign Sato and Lieutenant Reed at the same time. Are you offended by that knowledge?”

“Are you comfortable with it?” he asked.

“It is an agreeable arrangement,” she admitted, but countered with a question of her own. “Are _you_ comfortable with it?”

“Well, I’ve known about you and Hoshi,” he replied with a smug grin. “Her quarters aren’t really sound-proof.  As for the threesome with her and Malcolm; I think I wanna watch that.”

She threw her arms around him, planting another kiss. “I believe a demonstration can be arranged, beloved. Lieutenant Hess expressed the same interest. Maybe you can… watch together.”

He threw his head back and laughed.

=/\=

Jon sat in his quarters staring at the PADD before him.

It was the only picture he had of Rianne. She was bent over a flask, some sort of liquid boiling lazily in it. He didn’t even want to imagine what the woman went through, exiled to a far away continent by the Vulcans. There was only one solution.

Since she was the only person on the planet who knew about alien presence, she had to be removed from it and the obvious place to go was _Enterprise_.

And it wasn’t quite free of self-interest either as his thoughts had often wandered back to the beautiful female ever since they had liberated her planet from the deadly influence of the Mallurians.

=/\=

Trip helped her out of her shirt and they walked naked into the refurbished storage room that was known to everyone only as C47. Of course it didn’t look anything like a storage room. The floor was covered by a dark red carpet, which they had procured about a year ago, when the group was still only Anna, Hoshi, Rostov and him.

Over the months a lot of additions had been made, not only to the group itself, but also to its little hideout. There was a large mat for gangbangs, a particular favorite of Hoshi, several divan-style beds with various liberator shapes and even a love-swing, which was very popular with Malcolm whenever he felt like a bit of man-love.  And there was of course a veritable arsenal of sex toys, all carefully crafted by him, Anna and Rostov in numerous secret night shifts in engineering.

After having attended the big party in the mess hall, the group had retreated to their ‘hobby room’ to greet the New Year swinger-style. Champaign, wine and even some harder substances seemed to be the only commodity that was still in good supply as the buffet had left little to guess how thin the provisions were stretched by now.

Apparently most had therefore gone for the liquid part of the offerings and some were well buzzed. T’Pol was still okay, merely tipsy enough to make her slightly cross-eyed and a bit more expressive with her affection, but Hoshi and Cutler seemed to have nipped the odd beverage too many and were giggling like school girls.

Instead of the usual run for T’Pol’s oral attention, the men and women of the group had been separated to different tables and he could see that Hoshi was already ‘topping off’ with the provided Champaign.

Anna Hess, the ‘mistress of ceremony’ for the evening was standing in the middle of the room, ready to reveal her plans. She too was swaying slightly on her feet, but at a guess he’d say she wasn’t much worse for wear than T’Pol.

“Alright folks; instead of the usual free-for-all, it’s gonna be fun and games tonight,” she announced. “Our first game is called ‘blindfolded blowjob bingo’.”

“I somehow like the name of _that_ game.”

Malcolm’s dead-pan quip spread amusement among the attendees.

“Okay guys, sit down on these five chairs,” his XO instructed and he moved to do so with the other four men.

Once they were all sitting next to each other, Anna began to blindfold them – first Taylor, then Malcolm, followed by Travis and Rostov. He was the last to be relieved of his vision. Silently he waited for further explanations, but Hoshi’s incessant giggling made it hard to concentrate on the sound around him. He heard the rattling of plastic in a glass container.

“The rules are simple. We play five rounds,” Anna continued and he felt that she put something sticky on his chest – a colored marker, most likely. “Trip is red, Rostov green, Travis blue, Malcolm yellow and Taylor white. We girls take turns drawing chips and on my signal we’ll blow the corresponding guy for one minute. “

He could hear the amusement among his fellow guinea-pigs.

“If you correctly guess who’d been polishing your pole you get the chip, if not, the girl gets to keep it. If you blow your load the chip stays with the girl and you’ll have to finish off the other guys after the game.”

“And the winner?” Trip asked.

“The winner gets finished off by way of 5-way blowjob from all of us girls and he gets to prepare the ladies for the return match.”

Several very interested male hums elicited chuckles from the girls.

“Alright guys, erect the masts!”

Rhythmic clapping from the girls – all except T’Pol most likely – went on as he stroked his meat to make himself hard. The sheer naughtiness of beating off for an audience was enough to have the not-so-little-engineer standing at full attention in record time.

=/\=

The captain returned to the mess hall an hour after he had left it. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know why ten officers had left the party two hours _before_ midnight. There was probably a very interesting private party going on in a certain former storage room.

But despite the missing officers the party was still well attended. On his way here he had authorized Chef to dip into the stocks of the captain’s mess. Not that they were any less depleted than the general food stocks, but it would suffice to fill the buffet with somewhat more appetizing food than had been the case earlier this evening. His steward was currently busy distributing some of the delicacies among the skeleton crew, who kept the ship running.

“May I?”

Jon needed to shake his thoughts off before he became aware of the situation. A waltz was playing and a brightly smiling young woman from science had just requested this dance. Normally he wouldn’t like such familiarity between the captain and a crewman, but what the hell, this was New Years Eve. Returning her smile, he offered his hand and led her to the dance floor.

=/\=

The fifth round had just started and Trip had trouble concentrating on identifying the technique being used on his throbbing organ. Just one chip was resting in his hand – the meager result of the previous four rounds, but at least it was the most important one – he had correctly identified T’Pol.

But so had Travis, in fact if the ship’s helmsman would get his current partner right, he’d end up with a clean-sweep of nabbing all five chips. His attempts to remember, who it was who liked to twirl her tongue around the head of his tool, were interrupted when he heard a groan followed by the satisfied hum that T’Pol usually let out when someone spray-painted her throat.

By the sound of it that meant Malcolm wasn’t only quick to shoot on a weapons range. To be fair however, being exposed to T’Pol’s excellent technique after four other women had thoroughly warmed him up was a bit of a competitive disadvantage. Thankfully, for Malcolm it wouldn’t be much of a punishment to finish off him, Taylor and Rostov. The security officer had by far the most active bi-streak.

Travis however, well he’d get the big prize. At least Trip got to score a second chip, as the maniacal laughter about Malcolm’s mishap had given away that Hoshi was currently kneeling in front of him.

=/\=

He should have known of course that the bold young woman’s action would open the flood gates. As a result Jon had spent the last thirty minutes being passed around the female crew members. For once he was momentarily thankful for the low amount of women in the crew. For all the problems that imbalance caused, for the moment it meant he would soon get a breather. He had almost forgotten how exhausting dancing could be.

 But it was for a good purpose. The improved food and his gentle mingling with the crowd had transformed the mood of the party and it was now much more light-hearted. It also meant that Forest & Co, Admiral Black in particular, had a very bellicose captain coming their way.

It was time that those fuddy-duddies got a clue what it meant to send a crew out on a two-year journey, especially if the average age was just twenty-three years.

=/\=

Trip groaned as he emptied his load into Malcolm’s mouth. The Brit washed it down with a swig from his beer and, grinning in satisfaction, he went on to work on Rostov. If anything, that wasn’t really a punishment for the ship’s tactical officer.

But Travis of course was having a great time. Ten female hands roamed his body, or more exactly eight, as T’Pol usually wasn’t very touchy-feely with anyone but himself and everybody in the group accepted that. In fact by the look of things his better half had flouted the rules and instead of working on Travis’ meat, she had secured the face-sitting spot and the helmsman didn’t look too unwilling to work his tongue on her sweet spot. In a token effort she did lean forward occasionally and added a few licks to the boomer’s impressive erection.

Interestingly enough, and a testament to Travis’ expert technique, it was T’Pol who came first before the helmsman shot his load into Hoshi’s mouth. Once the pile had disentangled, Anna walked off and came back with a large box.

Everybody looked on as Malcolm put the ‘finishing touches’ on Taylor and once the Lieutenant had shot his ammo, everybody looked at Anna for the next event of the ‘naked swinging Olympics’.

“Alright, the girls and I have prepared something,” Anna explained. “Hoshi and T’Pol are experts at it, but two of us wanted to try it too. The return match will be ‘blindfolded rear-end bingo’. Liz doesn’t want to take part and we all promised to accept each other’s limits. That’s why Malcolm will take part in the game in her place.”

“Surprise,” Trip ribbed his fried and general amusement spread among the group.

 “I don’t need to tell you to be gentle, I hope,” she continued. “And remember, except for T’Pol the other people need a bit of extra stimulation to make it a pleasant experience.”

“That does not preclude you from providing extra stimulation for me as well,” the Vulcan added dead-pan to even more amusement in the group.

“But that game will follow later,” Anna continued. “First our winner will lube us all up and distribute these nice little buttplugs.”

Four girls and Malcolm lined up on their hands and knees and a grinning Travis picked up the box. Trip put his arm around Liz Cutler, who looked a little uneasy with her refusal to take part, but it had been the iron rule of the group since day one, that nobody would be made to take part in anything he or she was not comfortable with.

=/\=

Chef wheeled out the last tray of finger food. He wondered if the captain had really thought through how little of his food stocks were remaining after he had released them for use tonight. It would now be almost eight weeks of trying to cobble together a captain’s meal from virtually nothing.

Somehow his intuition told him that the captain was very well aware of that.

At least the ship’s commanding officer had listened to him, which was more than could be said for other officers he’d served with. Despite his big name Captain Archer seemed to know his limitations and at least sometimes used the experience of the people serving under his command.

They could have avoided some early troubles had the captain made more use of Travis’ experience, but at least he was learning. Again, that was much more than he’d seen from other captain’s he’d served with.

The subject of his thoughts was currently busy on the dance floor. He had to give credit where it was due. Without having paid too much attention to it, but this was at least the third time he’d been passed around among the female crew and in between the captain had actually braved time in the mosh pit among the male contingent. Say what you want about him, but that man knew how to work with a crew that was quite exhausted and on the brink of losing discipline.

Now it was his job to help with that. Keeping up crew morale with what little reserves he had left in the stasis units was not going to be an easy job.

=/\=

“Hard to find a sitting position, Malcolm?”

Laughter spread among the men. Malcolm was lying on his side on one of the divans, while the other four were sitting in chairs. With that big plug up his bottom sitting upright was of course a bit of a challenge for the Brit. They toasted each other as they watched the ‘Ladies round’ that Anna had announced.

By the look of it, T’Pol was in good demand. Hoshi had secured the face-sitting position, while Liz Cutler was working on T’Pol’s sweet spot and if the groans of his beloved Vulcan were anything to go by, she was way past caring about her surroundings. Anna and Masha Kusnetzova were engaged in an enthusiastic sixty-nine.

“Bloody good show,” Malcolm quipped and took a swig of his beer.

“It gets better when we all get to pound that firm ass of yours,” Travis ribbed him.

“Did you think I’ll pass up an opportunity like that?” Malcolm asked and pointed the neck of his bottle in their direction. “It’s been a while since you guys paid any attention to me. Have you got any idea how hard it is to compete with T’Pol and Hoshi?”

“Their asses are less hairy,” Taylor quipped.

They all laughed, clinking the bottles as first cries of orgasms sounded from ‘center stage’. Hoshi and Anna were already well done and the other girls followed in quick succession.

=/\=

“Eight… seven… six… five…four…three… two…one…”

The room erupted in loud cheers as the crowd greeted the year that would see them return home and people hugged each other.

“Happy new year, Captain!”

The cheery greeting, a hug and a kiss on his cheek took Jon by surprise and it was only the start as all the female dancing partners he had encountered during the evening were dropping by leaving a peck on his cheek and their well wishes with him. He smiled a little uneasily as such familiarity was not exactly part of the text book, but if he had learned anything about this crew, it was that tomorrow things would be back to normal.

Hell, if anything, ten of his officers were now most likely having a sex party and nothing of that would influence their conduct tomorrow. He was dying to see Black’s face should he ever get to know _that_ bit of news.

=/\=

“Happy new year!”

T’Pol didn’t really understand the need for shouting the obvious turn of the year out this loud, but she went along with the ritual of kissing the other group members. After the intense climax from Ensign Cutler’s oral stimulation her vision was blurred anyway, so she didn’t really know whom she was exchanging the intimate lip contact with.

She had identified Ensign Mayweather by his dark skin tone and Trip by his much more intimate technique than any other member would apply, but for all other intimacies she was hardly able to determine if it was a male or female.

In the end it didn’t matter. She trusted every member of the group and everybody respected her limits. A gentle brush or touch of her breasts was normal for the males and Ensign Sato for that matter, but nobody expected overly enthusiastic touch from her.

Her keen hearing picked up the faint sounds of drinks being consumed and she did so herself, although she was slightly distracted as she could feel fingers tracing the length of her labia. The touch-telepathic contact made it clear that Trip was stimulating her, but in absence of clear vision she didn’t even know where to direct a disapproving look. Not that she actually _wanted_ to look disapproving. Instead she leaned back and appreciated the gentle touch of her beloved.

“Alright folks,” she heard Anna Hess address them. “It’s time for the return match. The name says it all. Each of you get’s to do our butts for one minute and we have to guess. A last reminder; Hoshi, T’Pol and Malcolm are used to this, but Masha and I try for the first time, so please be gentle, okay?”

The men gave their approval by the sound of it.

“Trip, I don’t condone cheating, but if you could try not to draw Masha or me right away?”

Lieutenant Hess’ question was met with laughter from both females and males. The implicit reference to the substantial size of her beloved’s phallus was not lost on anyone.

“What’s the winner’s prize,” her mate asked as he blindfolded her. Not that such measure was really necessary considering her already impaired vision. She let out a moan when he gently removed the device from her anus that Anna Hess had referred to as a ‘buttplug’.

“The winner gets to be pleasured by how many guys she likes,” Anna replied and T’Pol already started thinking about the opportunities. Although inserting the male’s phallus into the rectum was not how Vulcans normally initiated touch telepathic contact, it would inevitably allow her to identify each of her partners.

When the first male organ pushed against her rear entrance it was not hard to work out that it was her beloved. He did not only strive to penetrate her, but he also applied a most stimulating touch to her bust and Trip was the only one who knew about the sensitivity of her ‘nipples’ as humans called these body parts. Apart from that, his size was hard to miss. She groaned in delight and gave herself in to his gentle ministrations. She had to make most of the minute she was afforded with her beloved human.

=/\=

Jon fell onto his bed, watched by a rather confused beagle.

“It’s okay Porthos, I’m just knackered,” he replied and his trusty companion trundled back to his place in the corner of the room.

If dancing with the women had been difficult, the rowdy attitude of the males to a heavy metal song had been the icing of the cake. What they called mosh pit and ‘wall of death’ had left him with several bruises. But in a way it had also been liberating to ‘let his hair down’ after two years of being the highest authority on the ship and the crowd had certainly not gone too easy on him.

But it had definitely been worth it as the wild party in the mess hall would go a long way to hold this crew together for the eight weeks it would take to get home. He had never thought he’d be in such a race, but now, two years of deep space travel wiser, he could see where Starfleet hadn’t thought things through to the end.

What exactly had they expected? That they would happen to run into an intergalactic supermarket where they could replenish their provisions for five bucks fifty? There were no space stations to call at, no allies to call for help. They had literally gone out on their own and for all their self-righteousness the Vulcans had had a point.

They were not prepared and even if it meant that their exploration would take a back seat for a while, there was no denying that before stumbling out into deep space, they needed some more presence in space, mainly space stations as _Enterprise_ wouldn’t be the only deep space ship for long. _Columbia_ was already being built and Starfleet intended to build no less than six NX-class ships, all named after historic earth space vessels from the early days of space exploration.

That was all jolly well, but without the supporting infrastructure all those missions would run into the same problem.

Soon the exhausted captain drifted off to sleep, still in his dress uniform.

=/\=

Trip helped her up and they shared a kiss.

T’Pol’s face was flushed green, a testament to the good job he and the other participants had done. Considering that T’Pol had climaxed noisily in round five meant that Travis, who was normally not on T’Pol’s list of partners for backdoor fun, had heeded his advice and improved his technique.

“You have given… Ensign Mayweather… instructions… did you not?” she asked, her breath still labored.

“I might have given him a hint or two,” he admitted with a grin.

“Would you be offended, if I nominated Ensign Mayweather and Lieutenant Reed to… celebrate my victory in the game?”

“Send him over here!” Anna interrupted their moment. “You guys left me hanging,”

He looked over to see his busty XO still on her hands and knees and still blindfolded. She was wiggling her butt to signal that someone please finish what had been started.

“Duty calls,” he said, giving her another kiss. “Have fun darlin’”

 With that he passed her hand on to a grinning Malcolm, his partner from round five and the second participant in the game who’d cum like a freight train.

Walking over, giving Anna a playful pat on her naked derriere, he repositioned her so he could ‘finish the job’ and watch T’Pol’s victory bang at the same time.

Liz Cutler, who had participated on the male side of the game using a strap-on, was currently busy finishing off Hoshi while Taylor ‘worked’ on Kusnetzova. By the look of things both Anna and the Russian from science had enjoyed their first attempt at greeting guests through the backdoor.

A satisfied moan greeted him as he pushed into Anna’s well-stretched opening. Since she was fingering pleasure central herself he grabbed her massive boobs and gave them a good massage as he started to pump in and out of her. The feedback was noisy but, as far as he could tell, very positive.

 Looking over he could see that T’Pol had commandeered the love swing with Travis already being busy on her delicate rear-end. Malcolm, the only one whose organ hadn’t been to a rather dark place recently was getting the blowjob of his life, if his cross-eyed look was anything to go by.

Having gone through two orgasms already, T’Pol’s vision was most likely wrecked anyway, so like Anna she had just kept the blindfold on. Judging by the sounds coming from the love swing, Travis had definitely improved his technique and he wouldn’t be surprised if her list of acceptable partners had just received an addition.

Smilingly he continued to pound Anna’s rear carefully. He didn’t want to spoil the first experience for her. His worries were proven unnecessary when his second in command screeched in delight as a massive orgasm rocked her body.

=/\=

“Best New Year’s Eve ever,” Trip said with a chuckle and bumped his beer bottle against the ones of Malcolm and Travis. A very exhausted Vulcan was fast asleep, her head resting in his lap.

The same arrangement could be seen with Malcolm and Hoshi. The young linguist had had more than just one drink too many and was currently snoring softly.

“I think we’ll stay here, Malcolm,” he suggested and his idea was met with a grinning nod.

It wouldn’t be the first time that they would spend the night in the club room after the ladies had exhausted themselves. Guiding a half-blind and half-drunk Vulcan back to her quarters wouldn’t be too practical anyway. And that wasn’t even accounting for the problems Malcolm would have had, considering how plastered Hoshi was.

“Will she be okay?” Malcolm asked once the others had left. “It looked as if she was completely out of it.”

“Vulcan thing,” Trip replied taking a swig from his beer. “She’ll be back to her own self in the morning. If anything, if you manage to wreck her eyesight you’ve done well.”

He could hear the Brit chuckle. “I don’t think I’d like those instant style-marks for ‘artistic merit’.”

The reason for Malcolm’s incessant grin became obvious when he noticed he had been stroking T’Pol’s hair the whole time.

“You have it bad for her, don’t you?”  his friend asked.

Trip just nodded and hid his abashment behind another swig from his drink.

 


End file.
